Stakes & Stilettos - Michelle Rowen [28]
And the good news kept coming. It seemed strange to celebrate the death of somebody, but in this case, I’d make an exception.
“Where’s the champagne?” I studied his noncelebratory expression. “Why don’t you look happier? Isn’t this a good thing?”
He shook his head. “It doesn’t feel right to me.”
“You think there are still hunters lurking around?”
“It’s not that. It’s simply difficult for me to believe that he is truly gone forever.”
I smoothed out the sparkly red dress I’d borrowed from Amy on the top of the bed. “You’re not going to miss him, are you?”
He shook his head. “Definitely not. The man relished death and destruction too much for me to mourn his passing. He had too much power at too young an age.”
Billions of dollars, male-model good looks, and the dude had spent his life hunting vampires. What a waste. “May he rest in pieces. One less wooden stake for me to worry about.”
He gave me a grim look. “I had a personal acquaintance with a member of the Chase family two hundred years ago. He nearly killed Veronique and me. He pledged to wipe out all elder vampires from the face of the planet. He didn’t bother with fledglings, since they weren’t much of a challenge to him.”
“He hurt you?”
He paused before answering. “I heal remarkably well.”
My jaw felt tight. “I’m glad they’re dead.”
“There will always be someone to take the place of a true monster. Especially a rich one.”
I nodded. “That’s why it’s a good thing that somebody’s decided to revive the whole Red Devil thing.”
Being staked had left more than an itchy healing feeling in my chest. It had left me with a ton of empathy for all the poor vamps who hadn’t been lucky enough to be rescued.
“While I do owe him my deep gratitude for saving you,” Thierry said, “I fear that he is simply a misguided vampire who is in well over his head.”
“You think that’s all he is? Misguided? Because the Red Devil never truly existed, right? That’s what you said the other night.”
He walked over to the little curtained window that looked out onto the parking lot. “There was a time when there was a true Red Devil. A very long time ago.”
I frowned. “Hold on. First you said it was an urban legend and now you’re saying he really existed? Which is it?”
He turned to look at me. “The Diable Rouge came forth when hunters began to grow and organize their numbers. Vampires were helpless against them.”
“And?”
“And he endeavored to save those who needed his assistance from the clutches of hunters who viewed us as monsters needing to be slaughtered. He saved as many as he could, whenever he could. It became an obsession for him. But that was a long time ago, when such a man as the Red Devil was needed. To have someone acting as the Red Devil now would be merely a drop in the bucket of righting wrongs.”
The hunters still looked at us that way. That’s why most of them sharpened their stakes. Because they really believed we were evil, bloodsucking things that needed to die. It was so Hollywood. “I guess we see differently on this. I figure a drop in the bucket is better than no drops at all.” I shook my head at him. “Have you always been this way?”
“What way?”
“Mr. Pessimistic. You’ve got to remember, along with that bleak worldview, there is a whole lot of hope to go along with it. Otherwise, why even bother getting up in the morning? The world is a pretty good place, actually. You’ve just got to look for the good in it instead of the bad.”
“Eternal optimism. I wish for you to always possess it.” He moved toward the bed and leaned over to kiss me on my lips, but it felt like a sad kiss instead of a passionate one. I captured his mouth before he had the chance to pull away, and deepened the kiss, pulling on his shirt to draw him closer to me. He didn’t resist.
“You know what?” I breathed against his mouth. “How about we forget about the happily departed Gideon Chase and the Red Devil? I haven’t had a chance to say thank you for my new ring.”
He gazed down at me. “You’ve just said it.”
“That’s not exactly what I meant.” I swung my legs around so I was kneeling